


A Glimpse of You

by Couyfish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Awkwardness, Break Up, Crowley (Supernatural) Has a Heart, Crowley (Supernatural) Just Wants To Be Loved, Dean Winchester needs to use his words, Dean is a marshmallow, Demons, Feelings, Feels, Fluff, Hungry Dean, M/M, Psychic, Psychic Bond, Psychic Kisses, Sad Sam, Sam-Centric, Shared Bodies, Uncomfortable Dean, Witch Curses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-01-01 04:04:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12148242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Couyfish/pseuds/Couyfish
Summary: When Sam and Dean are cursed to be psychically linked together, both brothers are desperate to find a cure before the other finds out too much.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a little more serious than my usual stuff. Sorry! There will be fluff, but it'll be buried in angst. Completed! **Special thanks to my sis Threshie for being my editor!**

“You’re hungry again?” I marveled, glancing down at Dean with both amazement and annoyance. I didn’t mean it to sound so judgmental, but good grief — it wasn’t like we skipped breakfast. “How?”

“Dude, it’s not my fault that those were TINY hamburgers!” My brother protested loudly, stomping unhappily up the steps of yet another motel. “I can’t believe every motel is full. That’s just stupid!”

The weather had held out though. It was overcast, but not raining. Not that we could tell after it got dark. It had to be at around ten or eleven at night.

At least this motel had a full coat of paint on the outside. The last one had boarded up windows. I looked it over as we pushed the tall wooden door to the office open. The ‘VACANCY’ sign clunked loudly to announce our presence to whoever was inside. The office was still open? Wow.

“It’s a psychic convention. It’s a big deal,” I told my brother under my breath.

“Convention? More like book club. Half of those nut jobs couldn’t tell a tarot deck from poker cards.”

I rolled my eyes and walked up to the counter. The gaunt older lady behind it looked up from her wedding magazine, taking our appearance in with a single glance. She looked like something off of fashion magazine cover combined with Halloween decorations. Scary and beautiful at the same time.

“More psychics?” She sighed through wine red stained lips. Shifting her thin hips on her stool just enough to grab the single key off of the row of hooks behind her, she turned back to us without an ounce of interest. “Eighty bucks a night. No smoking. No room service after 9 pm.”

Dean frowned and I suddenly had the striking feeling of hunger again, but I ignored it. I hurriedly pulled out my wallet and paid the woman. 

Mumbling a thank you as he took the key, Dean beat a quick retreat back out of the office. I followed him, not wanting to be left alone with the scary woman. Older women seemed to like me a lot.

“Finally!” My brother said as he located the matching room to the key in his hand. Room 71. The place wasn’t very big. How did they get all the way up to number 71? I couldn’t really think about it right then. The pain in my stomach was too strong!

“How are you SO hungry? Do you…have a tape worm or something?” I asked in all seriousness.

“What? Gross — no.” My brother rattled the key into the old motel door lock and shoved his way inside with his shoulder. The door creaked. The interior contained an appalling butter yellow and beige striped wallpaper and two twin beds that seemed to sag several full inches in the middle.

I stared around the room, searching for any other furniture. There was a little bed stand with a crooked drawer and a stool that appeared to be from the 1800s. On the far side of the room was a dirty looking lemon yellow couch to match the wallpaper.

“Dean. We need to get our money back.”

Dean took a seat on one of the beds. He patted it and shrugged.

“I don’t wanna sleep in the car again. My legs go numb.”

“I’m taller than you—” I complained, but he cut me off.

“Sam, it’s just one night.” I could tell that he thought that I was being stupid. Not just from his tone, but the psychic eye roll he was giving me at that moment.

I blinked, remembering suddenly that he could feel how I felt, too. I took a deep breath. It was just a room. Who cared. We had slept on floors before. It had been a long day and I didn’t want to deal with him being in my head anymore.

I settled onto my own crappy bed and rummaged in my backpack for my pajamas. Being psychically connected, I thought that I would feel or see what Dean was thinking — but all I could feel at that moment was how damn hungry he was. It felt like I hadn’t eaten in days. I…just…couldn’t. I turned to my brother. He glanced my way, raising an eyebrow.

“Just eat something!” I snapped.

“Okay, jeez!” He turned to dig in his own backpack, grumbling about me under his breath. He stuck an energy bar in his mouth and looked at me pointedly.

“Thank you.” I rubbed my head. I could feel Dean staring at me as I shook out the old blankets on the bed. Nothing scurried away, so that was a good sign. By the time I was done, the hungry feeling had started to fade away and I could almost make out some kind of emotion. Confusion? No. I looked up at him. He toasted me in the air with the energy bar.

We stared at each other for a second while he chewed.

I felt…playful? I blinked hard. That was so weird. It wasn’t what I expected. After the long day of driving and then the hunt for a motel room, I figured his mood would match mine. I felt a little silly now that I could think. 

When Dean swallowed his food, he waved a hand at me.

“So, how’re we un-psychi-ing ourselves?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. I was too tired to deal with it at that moment. “Let’s sleep on it.”

Dean shoved the last half of his energy bar into his mouth. He checked his pistol over with love and tucked it safely under his pillow. The motel’s pillows were so lumpy. No one would ever know it was under there.

Then there was another feeling. This strange happy but playful feeling that washed over me suddenly. It felt so different than my own emotions that I could finally pick it out clearly. It was nice. Definitely not what I expected from my brother. 

Maybe playful wasn’t the right word. Sneaky? Sly? Like I had a secret that no one else knew. I paused to focus on it. I kind of felt like…

“Ugh!” I jumped to my feet and shook my head, shivering at the realization.

“What?” Dean said around his mouthful of food, eying the bed like it was the problem. “Find an earwig or something?”

“If you touch yourself while we’re like this — I’m gonna kill myself.”

Dean looked at me like a deer in the headlights, then shrunk down to finish arranging his weapons. I felt a glow of embarrassment and annoyance wash over me.

“I’m serious, Dean.” I warned him, retreating to the bathroom to brush my teeth and get ready for bed. I could feel my jaw clenching. What Dean did on his own time was his business, but not while I was tuned in!

While changing to my pajamas, I felt a range of mild amusement, disappointment and then irritation. I crawled into the saggy bed and I sighed. It was time to change the subject.

“You really think one of these psychics will know how to undo this?”

“Yep,” Dean yawned around an arm. He hadn’t bothered to change. He had just rolled onto his face. For some reason, I felt a little sad. 

A lot sad, actually.

“Dean?”

“Hm?” My brother grunted, lifting his head to squint at me over his pillow. “Yeah, Sammy?”

“Uh,” I mumbled. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, but I had felt a sudden painful pang of sadness the moment my head had hit the pillow. It was a startling contrast to the very horny feelings from earlier. “Are you okay?”

“Yep. Doin’ great.” Dean sank his face into his pillow and went quiet again.

I rolled over to face the wall, trying to focus on something else. He didn’t want to talk. That was nothing new. What WAS new was the aching in my chest that told me how sad my brother was all of a sudden. I sighed and rolled onto my back.

“Dean.”

“What?” My brother replied grouchily, lifting his head again to frown at me. I frowned back.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, go to sleep.”

“I can feel it—”

“GO TO SLEEP.” Dean hugged his pillow with one arm and rolled to face away from me. I could feel irritation and sadness creeping up again.

I glared at the back of his head.

“Is it the masturbation thing?”

“What? NO!” Dean got up and snagged his backpack, retreating into the bathroom.

“Oh my god,” I said in exasperation. If he was in there doing what I thought he was… The painful sadness drifting over my mind told me that he probably wasn’t.

I was still pleasantly surprised when he came back in his pjs and sank into bed instead, however. He flipped the light on the meager bed stand off, plunging the room into darkness. The window in the room faced a wall, but it provided enough light to be able to see outlines around the room.

A heavy silence hung in the air as I tried to decipher the new feeling coming from him. How in the world did anyone make sense of all of that…

“It’s Cas.”

“Hm?” I rolled my head to squint at my brother over my lumpy pillow.

“I, uh…” Dean trailed off, rolling onto his back and tucking his hand under his pillow. He sighed heavily. “I’m worried about him.”

“Really?” I asked. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe him, I was just surprised that Dean felt so strongly about it. I was worried about Castiel too, but this felt like Dean might not ever see him again. “He’s okay. He’s got a car now. I’m sure he’ll visit when he gets the chance.”

“Or we could visit him.” Dean suggested with surprising softness. As if I would object to it.

I nodded even though he couldn’t see it.

“Yeah. We could go and visit. Maybe have lunch or something. Has he ever had Thai food?”

“Nope. Cool, let’s do that,” Dean replied shortly, rolling to face away from me again.

I did the same. I had my doubts that I would ever fall asleep, but at some point I did. I dreamed I was making a sandwich, piling it with different sliced deli meats and crisp vegetables.

 

\- - - -

 

I blinked. It was still dark? My back felt like I had slept on the hood of a car. Or maybe like I had been HIT by a car. Either way, not fun. I rolled over and stuck a hand into my backpack to feel for my watch. When I finally found it, I pressed the button and it read 7:21 AM.

I used the dim glow from it to locate the light switch for the motel’s lamp. It revealed the sad looking room and I had to squint to see my brother. Sam was out cold with his back to me, breathing heavily. 

“Sammy?”

“Dean?” His head immediately lifted up and he turned to look at me with bleary eyes. “You okay?”

I stared at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah?” I said slowly, rolling to sit up. The bed creaked loudly. Why wouldn’t I be? I thought with a frown.

He made a sound between a word and a grunt and laid back on his face. After a long moment, he sat back up on his elbows to look at me.

“When’s the convention open?”

“At nine. We should get coffee’d up.”

“God yes,” Sam mumbled as he climbed out of bed and staggered toward the bathroom.

The weird psychic connection thingy seemed to be dimmer in the morning. I couldn’t really tell what Sammy was feeling, but that was okay with me. He was all over the place yesterday. Probably too focused on yelling at me. It wasn’t my fault I needed a lot of fuel.

It took until we were out in the car before I began to feel our weird connection again. Sammy felt tired and thoughtful? I wasn’t super sure on that one. It wasn’t just a feeling though. I heard an actual word.

‘Coffee.’

I turned to reply to him before I realized that he hadn’t said anything out loud. My little brother looked at me through tired eyes, propping his elbow up by the window.

“I think there was an espresso place by that gas station on the way into town.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, starting the car and pulling out of the motel parking lot.

Feeling what the other was feeling was okay. Fine. I could deal with that shit — but there was no way I wanted Sammy in my head. It was a messed up place. His mind probably wasn’t a walk in the park, but he hadn’t served forty years in Hell.

Sam glanced at me and I glanced back.

“Yeah?” I asked, carefully neutral.

“What about Hell?”

I looked back at him, eyes wides.

“Come on!” I hissed. “I thought that quietly!”

“You didn’t say that?”

“No!”

“C-can you hear me?” He asked quickly, paling a few shades.

I held up a hand.

“Let’s just find the cure.” Shit! I thought, not caring if Sammy could hear it.

“Dean, we’re about to go into a psychic convention. We can’t be broadcasting our thoughts. If there are any real psychics there, people can’t know the things we know!” Sam reasoned, gesturing between the two of us.

“Duh!”

‘Or Crowley!’ My brother thought. It was with such alarm that I frowned.

“Crowley?” I looked at him and frowned. What?

“Never mind!” Sammy waved his hands in front of him. “Maybe we should split up. You check the convention and I’ll check around town. There must be a reason why the convention is held here. Maybe there’s a historical reason or something.” Sam stammered, trying not to look at me. Why was he thinking about Crowley? What did he have to do with this?

“He doesn’t,” Sam replied carefully.

I frowned at him and pulled the car off to the side of the road. As I turned to Sam to discuss it, though, he got out of the car and paced around to the front to perch on the hood.

I followed him, blinking as morning mist hit my face. It was cold and damp. As I arrived at my brother’s side, I was feeling fear from him. Sam looked over at me miserably. He sighed and tucked his hands into his jacket pockets.

“Dean. I can’t have you in my head.”

“Uh, likewise,” I said lowly. I leaned on the hood beside him and sighed. The weather was about as cheerful as I was. It was overcast and a chill hung in the air along with the annoying mist. We had stopped along some street at the edge of town. To one side was the town and to the other a field full of grass and trees.

Why was he scared?

“I know,” Sam breathed, dropping his gaze to the ground. “We’ve both done things. Things that we c-can’t talk about. We have to fix this. Now.”

“How?” I asked vaguely, looking up at my little brother again. I was happy that I wasn’t the only one that was worried, but after everything that I had done — I really wasn’t in any position to pass judgment on Sammy.

Sam looked at me, eyebrows pinching.

“Thanks.”

“How much of that did you hear?” I complained, hunching my shoulders. 

“Just the not judging me part,” Sammy assured me. He sighed. “I…We should hurry.” He turned and headed back to the car door. 

I followed suit and got back in the car. Maybe once we were farther apart, it wouldn’t be as bad.

 

\- - - -

 

I barely made it to the bathroom. I laid back against the wall, my head spinning. Being apart had helped — for about an hour. Than feelings came crashing over me like a freaking tidal wave.

The kind of feelings that were private. Like, tight jeans and panting kinda feelings. The idea of them originating in my brother made me cringe. I bit my lip and scrambled to get my cell phone out. I jammed the call button and put the phone to my ear, trying to breath calmly. Sam was having one hell of a party over there!

“H-hello?” It rang three times before I heard Sam’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Dude, what the HELL? After all of the ‘if you touch yourself’ crap? Really?” I growled, rubbing my forehead.

“I’m not!” Sam swore, but I could hear the guilt — feel the guilt. Along with some kind of wild tingling excitement. In combination with my brother’s voice, it was a little disturbing.

“What the hell man?! I can feel THAT!”

There was a long awkward silence on the other side of the phone and than Sammy cleared his throat.

“I’m not.”

I frowned and leaned my head back against the wall.

“Come on Sammy…At the library?” I asked slowly. “I know you’re a nerd, but COME ON!”

“I gotta go. I won’t d-do anything — bye.” With that, my brother hung up on me. 

“Dammit.” I dropped the phone into my pocket and sat there. A chill went up my spine and I swore I felt a kiss being pressed to my lips. It felt nice. I felt what could only be described as ‘a warm fuzzy feeling,’ then it dropped to doom and gloom.

Ugh. Sam was all over the place again! Who the hell was Sam with? Were library hookers a thing? When I finally ‘recovered,’ I stepped out of the stall and straight into a tall man.

“Sorry,” I mumbled insincerely as I pushed past him. He was in what looked like a pirate costume to me. Complete with sleazy mustache, striped vest and bandanna.

“Romance troubles?” He asked as I reached the bathroom door. I glanced back at him and frowned, my hand on the door handle.

“What?”

I must have sounded pissed, because the man held up both hands and took a step back.

“I sense relationship trouble. Is that why you’re here?” He asked in a way too calm, soothing voice. Had he been eavesdropping on my call?

“No, I’m just cursed!” I snapped back, ducking back out into the convention. 

 

\- - - -

 

The demon had to lean up to kiss me, but I appreciated the gesture. I had wanted to do so much more. Just not with Dean in my head. I turned and dropped the single red rose that the King had brought me into the trash. He made a little hiss of mock annoyance.

“Why do you always do that?” He questioned in a purr, turning me back to face him. The demon cupped my face and trailed his thumbs across my cheeks. I watched him while he did so, lost in my thoughts. As always, he was in a nice black suit set complete with a heavy overcoat. We hadn’t even gotten that off before Dean had called…

“We can’t do this right now,” I warned him in a whisper, reaching to grab his tie. I ran my thumb over it. It was silky and smooth to the touch. So unlike Crowley himself.

“I know, Moose,” he whispered back, pulling me down to press a kiss to my chin and then to my cheek. I bit my lip, fighting to hide how much the little kisses affected me. Sitting back to look up at me with a knowing smirk, Crowley patted my chest roughly. “I wasn’t the one who called though.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and paced the room, scanning over the meager motel furnishings with disinterest. I watched him go. I had told him about our little problem. He didn’t seem worried. 

“I thought that it wouldn’t work if he was across town. He’s all the way over at the psychic convention,” I explained. 

Crowley scoffed, pausing by the couch to poke at it. 

“You were willing to risk that for little old me? Aw Moose,” he chuckled.

“I m-missed you.” I couldn’t stop the little waver in my voice. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. This wasn’t that kind of relationship, I reminded myself. I tried not to think of how the conversation with Dean would go if he ever found out about us, even with as casual as we were about our relationship. Jeez. When did it become that?

“Aw,” the demon cooed sarcastically, coming back over to me. He reached up to my shoulders to brush his fingers through the tips of my hair. “Don’t look at me with those eyes.”

I ducked out of his reach and tried to put some distance between us. I picked my laptop up off of the couch and tucked it under my arm.

“I have research to do. I don’t have time for you,” I told him coldly. To my surprise, it earned me a rather childish pout.

“Fine,” the demon said bitterly, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

If there was one thing Crowley hated, it was when people wasted his time. If I wasn’t going to sleep with him — he considered it a waste I guess. Another reminder of our broken relationship.

I bit my lip. I felt so stupid. I had fallen for my own trap. The curse was just an inconvenience, my real problem was Crowley. When I had finally decided to flirt back, it made life easier. He could get me this and that, rare spell ingredients — things that Dean and I couldn’t get. It was easy to cover and say that I found them in the bunker. 

Dating the King of Hell had given me access to much more than items though. He had a whole network of demons in every walk of life. He was like the supernatural Google. If I asked nicely and maybe with a smile — he’d get me the information I needed in minutes. I rubbed my forehead. Now I knew how a trophy wife felt.

Then…things happened. 

Despite how absolutely horrible Crowley was, he was like a different man when I gave him the time of day. He had actually brought me flowers before (which were promptly thrown out of the motel window). I didn’t know what the heck to even DO with flowers. The idea that someone would even bring me flowers was absurd. But the King of Hell had.

I had kept up my charade for months, giving in to Crowley’s ever increasing demands. It quickly went from a little kiss here and there to the long nights in bed. Only to wake up one morning and realize that it hadn’t been a charade for a very long time. I had tried so hard to ignore him. The little smiles. The kisses goodbye. The way the demon tried to take my side when I said I was fighting with Dean about something. Those small things about us that made it feel like we were more than late night lovers. He had made it clear that he wanted it to be more and I…I wanted it to be, too. 

I needed Crowley. I felt a dull pain in my chest at the realization. I didn’t want to need him, but the thought of not having him around hurt just as badly. When I was wrapped up in sneaking around with him, I wasn’t thinking about the mess that was my life.

There’s always a cost, I reminded myself sternly. When would that cost become too much? It hadn’t so far…

Which, now that I thought about it, was probably the leading cause of why I felt like I needed Crowley. He was the best form of self-hatred I could come up with. I had fooled myself into thinking his affection was free. He’d been a good distraction. But I needed to check back into reality before it cost me my soul.

Dropping the laptop aside on the couch, I sat down and propped my head up in my hands. I stared at the shoddy motel carpet. Crowley was the one who had kept coming back. It was his fault. I just used his interest in me because it was convenient. I always sent him away before the conversation could drift and he always went — though he dragged his feet sometimes. It was kind of cute to see a grown man do that.

What’s wrong with me?

With everything going on, I just couldn’t will myself to move. I felt like killing something and crying my eyes out at the same time. Hopefully neither of those emotions were from Dean.

I frowned sadly. Dean thought he was more messed up than me. I think I’d win that argument if he ever found out about Crowley and me. But I might lose HIM. I had to let Crowley go, or it might cost me Dean. And Castiel. Jeez. If either of them found out, they would tell the other — and Dean had a free ticket into my head at that moment. What had I done?

“Shit,” I mumbled, remembering suddenly that Dean was probably feeling and or HEARING half of my thoughts. He was going to punch me in the face, I just knew it. What surprised me was how I didn’t care. I had it coming. I knew it. I had been sleeping with the enemy. Literally.

I bit my lip and tried to calm down with deep steady breaths. It had the opposite effect. Every slow breath got shakier. I tried not to think. I tried to push the memories of Crowley and his stupid charming self far away. Somewhere that I wouldn’t even think of them! 

Just sit and meditate, I told myself. My vision started to blur with tears as I turned and buried my face into the couch. I wished that Crowley hadn’t left.

I had to talk to him.

 

\- - - -

 

After the roller coaster ride of weird ass emotions all morning, I planned on giving Sam an earful. I had been in line to buy coffee at a gas station and almost started bawling my eyes out. The words ‘What’s wrong with me?’ had hit me like a hammer on the head.

While my brother was off moping, I was trying to get work done. Half of the first day of the convention was over and we were no closer to finding a cure!

When I pushed open the motel room door to start my rant, I spotted my brother huddled up in a ball, face smashed into the couch and shoulders slumped.

“Sammy?” I asked, dropping my coffee cup onto the bed stand. He sat up to look at me through red framed eyes, blinking a few times.

“What time is it?” He mumbled as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Are you drunk?” I asked indignantly, flinging my jacket onto one of the horrible beds. 

Sam mumbled something and shook his head. He had apparently been asleep. Which would explain the nice quiet ride home.

Even now that he was awake, I didn’t really get much of a read. He just felt tired. Hollow. It felt more like a lack of emotion. I joined my brother on the crappy couch. He had slept with his face against it? Gross. I had slept with a bunch of people on motel couches — other people did that too. Ugh.

Sammy looked so miserable that I kinda felt bad for being so pissed. I rubbed my neck and glanced his way. His eyes were rimmed with red.

“Any luck at the library?

“No. The history of this town is your standard fare. Nothing to do with psychics,” my brother paused to yawn. “Or curses.” He added, crawling off of the couch. I hopped up and followed him. 

Clearly something had happened while I was gone. First with the awkwardness at the convention, then almost crying… 

“Are you okay? You look really, er, rough.”

“Any luck at the convention?”

“No,” I said lowly as he blatantly ignored my question. All I could get off of his emotions now was a feeling of guilt and something I decided was determination. I watched Sammy’s back as he retreated into the bathroom to shower and change. He called back out to me as the water started running.

“Thanks for eating lunch.”

“No problem.” I frowned and scanned over the motel. Maybe there was some clue about who he had had over. If he didn’t just go out. Tuning into his emotions wasn’t helping me. He was starting to feel just as all over the place as earlier.

The place was so sparse and run down, Sam could have brought a herd of cows through and it would have looked the same. I poked through the trash in the kitchen. Paper coffee cups, Chinese takeout containers, an empty travel size conditioner…and a red rose?

I bent and picked it carefully out of the trash. It looked fresh.

“Dean, we…” Sam trailed off as I turned to face him, rose in hand. I felt a surge of panic, than annoyance.

“This yours?”

“No,” Sam lied.

“Come on, Sammy.”

“I had a woman over. You do it all the time. What’s the big deal?” Sam snapped. He yanked his own jacket on and headed for the door. “Let’s just go to the convention.”

I dropped the rose back into the garbage and followed him. I didn’t need to be psychic to feel how pissed off he was at being caught. Sure. It wasn’t a big deal. RIGHT. I had never given a one night stand a rose before.

 

\- - - -

 

“YOU’RE the one who keeps crawling back, NOT ME!”

Trying to explain to Crowley that I wanted to see him even less had not gone over well. 

“I want to break up!” I tried to yell over the demon’s rant. 

The room instantly fell silent. Crowley’s mouth was still open, but he wasn’t yelling anymore. At least, for a second.

“You WHAT?” The demon growled, baring his teeth.

“I want to BREAK UP—”

“No!” He spat at me, slashing his hands through the air in front of him. “We aren’t breaking up! You don’t get to decide that, Moose!”

“There’s no contract. I don’t owe you anything! This was a bad idea to begin with and it’s time to end it!”

“No!” The demon snapped again, grabbing me by the arms painfully hard. I knew that he didn’t mean to hurt me, as the grip immediately softened as he finally lowered his voice. He must have realized that I was serious. He looked a little sad now, the anger fading into the background. “Sammy, Sammy.” He slipped a hand up against my cheek, shaking his head. “Let’s talk about this.”

“I was trying to,” I replied bitterly, pulling away from him. I couldn’t have him that close to me. It hurt. I paced the room as the demon followed me. I ran my hand through my hair as I tried to force the lump in my throat not to form. Crowley had no idea how hard it was. I had managed to talk myself into telling him off the day before, but actually going through with it…God, it hurt. It hurt like a knife in my chest.

“What can I do?” I heard him ask more softly, a hand resting on my back. “Did I miss our anniversary or something?” I turned back to him and sighed, shaking my head. Crowley moved to hug me, though I placed my hands on his shoulders to stop him. I shook my head again, staring down at him. He actually looked sad. He was trying his best to hide it, but I could see it in his eyes. I was doing the exact same thing.

“You’ve been great—” I began shakily, but the demon cut me off angrily.

“Than WHAT? What do you want, Sam? I can bring you ANYTHING! Just tell me what you want!” The demon snarled, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

“I don’t want anything from you!” I yelled back, stepping out of his reach. I took a deep breath. 

I wanted him. That was all. No magical trinkets or spell components. In a perfect world, without Angels or Demons or Hunters — just the two of us. Where we didn’t have to be afraid to get to know each other. 

While I’m at it, why not throw in a goddamn unicorn! I thought, rubbing my forehead.

Crowley moved closer again, palms up in surrender.

“Is this about Dean? Did your brother find out? Because I don’t bloody care—”

“Dean doesn’t know and we’re keeping it that way.” I turned and paced the room. I had to just explain it. I had to start from the top, hopefully with less yelling involved.

“Fine,” I heard the demon say quietly. I turned and saw him as he straightened the collar of his coat. “Fine! You want to break up, Moose — we’re broken up.” He stepped closer again, glaring me down and poking a finger up at my nose. When he spoke, it was through his teeth. “All our deals are off. Say hello to the real world for me.”

With that, he was gone. I stared at the space where he was, my heart sinking. That was it, then. 

No more King of Hell.


	2. Chapter 2

The convention was crowded on day two. There were lots of tourists in shirts with slogans about believing in the supernatural or psychics or Bigfoot. Whatever floated their boat. Sam and I made the rounds though the main show room, poking through table after table of crystals and the like.

My brother was about as lively as a rock. The only emotion I could feel from him was regret and that creepy serial killer calm. I couldn’t blame him. Shoving our way through the crowd was testing my patience too.

“Do you think they’d just tell us if we asked who was a real psychic?” I said loudly over my shoulder to Sam.

“I wish,” Sam scoffed. I glanced his way. He was trailing after me, ignoring all the people and tables around us.

I decided to do a little experiment. I blew out a deep breath and focused my thoughts inward.

What do you wanna have for lunch? I thought as vividly as I could. The response was immediate. Sam stopped in his tracks and looked at me from under his eyebrows. He blinked.

I could feel how surprised he was as he thought back a reply. It came through perfectly clearly to me. It sounded like he had just said it right behind my ear.

I’m not hungry, Dean.

I stopped to poke at the nearest vendor’s table. It was covered in books on mermaids, complete with a couple of little statues. I picked up a sexy mermaid figurine and waggled it at him.

Come on, Sammy. There’s like a dozen places to eat around here.

…I saw a place with a chef salad.

I curled my lip. Salad? Bleh! But if it would cheer Sam up…

They had burgers too. Sam thought, turning and pointing back through the crowd we had wandered through.

“Oh hell yeah!” I said, dropping the statue and slapping Sam on the back. If we didn’t also have the creepy emotional connection, I might've wanted to keep the psychic part around. Hell, maybe we could get better at it and not transmit every little thought.

Sam looked at me drolly.

“No.”

I glanced back and sighed. Right. He could hear that.

  
\- - - -

We settled in at the tiny convention table, dumping the armload of food Dean bought in front of us. He started sorting it, claiming most of the grease stained burgers for himself. He slapped a chicken one in front of me, though, grinning.

“Eat up, Sammy.”

I stared at the salad, two burgers, large coffee and mini sundae he had gotten for me. I really wasn’t hungry. Now that I knew he was tuned into my head with full sentences, I had been using every bit of my energy keeping my mind as clear as possible. I felt kind of like a puppet.

It was easy to tell my emotions apart from Dean’s now. He was worried, hungry and super happy at the pile of food. I watched him chow down a burger, reveling in the pulse of joy he felt with every bite.

I loved food too, but not as much as Dean. It was so strong. I closed my eyes and focused how his feelings instead of my own. Maybe I could ride his food high and not think about…certain people.

Dean instantly glanced my way, eyebrow quirked. I started unwrapping one of my burgers. It felt like the more effort I put into hiding a thought, the clearer it went to him.

I bit into the burger and focused. For being so cheap, it was really good. The creaminess of the mayonnaise with the crunch of the lettuce contrasted beautifully with the toasted bread on the moist chicken patty. Not to mention the sesame sprinkled fluffy bun! I opened my eyes, frowning. Deliberately over thinking food felt weird.

Dean was staring at me with a big old smirk, talking around his mouthful of food.

“Dude, stop. You’re makin’ me all tingly.”

I rolled my eyes.

Dean’s phone started to ring and he managed to answer it one-handed.

“Cas?”

His face brightened and I felt this overwhelming warm, snuggly feeling crash over me. It made me woozy. I blinked, pressing a hand to my forehead. Whoa.

“It’s got instructions on the box, Cas.” I heard my brother say. I sat up and watched him, trying to pick up on what he was thinking.

Nothing, apparently. At least nothing that he was trying to keep from broadcasting. He was just listening and eating. The fluffy love feeling in my chest grew as Dean chuckled. I had to smile a bit too. Man, he really loved Cas.

“It’s a waffle iron. Just dump the batter in there and shut it…Cas? I hear the fire alarm — that’s too much batter!”

I could make out coughing from the phone and then Dean hung up, rolling his eyes.

“Cas is working on his brunch skills.”

Finishing off the chicken burger, I raked the rest of my food over to Dean and stood up.

“I’m going to run by the bathroom, then get a smoothie or something. Tell me when you’re done eating.”

I’m eating your food! Dean thought to me as I left.

\- - - -

“Your brother is impossible!”

I glanced up from my burger marathon. Crowley was settling in across the small table, looking royally pissed. He must have run into Sam on the way in. I remembered Sam’s mental exclamation of Crowley’s name back in the car and swallowed my food.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” I scooted one of the burgers across to him, but he smacked it away with the back of his hand. He gritted his teeth and ran a hand through his hair, looking more and more pissed by the second. As I gave in and took another bite of my food, Crowley said something that made my blood freeze.

“I’m in love with your brother,” the demon snapped, gripping his head with both hands.

I felt my eyes bulge as I gawked at him, trying not to choke on my food.

“You’re what?” I managed around my big bite of burger. I chewed as quickly as I could while Crowley attempted to contain his temper.

He lay his arms on top of the table with a long miserable groan, dropping his head down to rest on them.

“I haven’t told him that, of course, but he’s…he’s being so…so…” The man gritted his teeth, balling his fists and trying to come up with words to describe his current state. He slammed the fist down on the table and sat up to glare at me.

I stared back awkwardly, then swallowed my food.

“Are you high again?”

“No!” I swear that I saw a blood vessel burst in his eye as he practically ripped his tie to loosen it. I hadn’t seen Crowley so pissed in years. He was seething, grinding his teeth so loudly that I could hear it over the hum of the convention crowd.

Maybe I'd heard him wrong, because I could have sworn he had just said that he was in love with my brother.

“I need your help,” Crowley finally said, sitting up and regaining a tiny bit of composure. He still looked pissed.

“My help?” I said slowly, sitting my burger down. “Whoa, whoa. Hold up. You said that you’re in LOVE with Sam?” Saying it out loud made me laugh. Demons weren’t capable of love. Not as far as I was concerned. After years of dealing with them, I supposed that Crowley stood out as a pretty weird demon, but still.

His reaction made me frown. Crowley tapped a nail on the table top, suddenly avoiding looking at me. I snapped my fingers at him.

“Hey—”

“Yes.” He leaned closer, dropping his voice low enough that I could barely hear it over the noise of the convention. “Just keep it to yourself.”

I stared back at him dubiously.

“Then why are you telling me?”

“I need your help. Moose won’t talk to me.”

“Gee, I wonder why?” I shook my head and picked up a couple of fries, swiping them through the glob of ketchup behind them on the plate.

Crowley scoffed and looked away, going quiet. I watched him while I ate my fries. He was really pissed off, but it felt like he was using it to cover being something else… Maybe he really was in love with Sammy? As much in love as a demon could be, anyway.

I suddenly felt kind of bad for him. After our ‘adventures’ while I was a demon, I had come to realize something about the King of Hell.

He was lonely.

Crowley glanced my way, eyebrows low.

“What?” He snapped.

“What? Do you want me to deliver a message or something?” I asked. I knew Sam would never give him the time of day, but I’d leave it to Sammy to break his heart. If he had one.

A shift of red behind Crowley caught my attention all of a sudden. It was the pirate man from the bathroom. He was standing and watching us, a hand hovering over his chest. Hanging around his neck was a large pendant. It shimmered as he watched us, eyes half closed in focus.

“I need—” Crowley began as I jumped up. The moment I was on my feet, the pirate broke out of his concentration and turned to run into the crowd, knocking a woman in a bulky Mothman costume over.

“Hey!” I shouted after him, dodging past a couple of skimpily dressed teenagers that were trying to help Mothman up. I jumped past several more people before I made it to the door where the pirate had gone.

He was booking it like his ass was on fire. I skidded and bounced against the wall outside of the doorway, pushing myself off to follow the pirate.

The man was running so fast that he was starting to lose pieces of his costume. I passed his mustache and a couple of rings as I sprinted down the hallway.

He ducked out another door – one that led to the alley. I followed him. Bingo! I didn’t have to worry about freaking other convention goers out when I caught up to him.

As I burst outside into the warm sun, I caught a glimpse of the man face-planting into the ground, Crowley lingering nearby. The demon looked royally peeved.

“Please! Don’t kill me, demon!” The man wailed, clasping his hands together to plead for his life.

Crowley didn’t answer him, instead casting a glance my way. He made a little gesture with his hand to offer the pirate to me. I caught my breath as I came over, hovering above the pirate man.

“Are you psychic?” I panted. The man was shaking now, his eyes darting back and forth, trying to keep tabs on Crowley and me at the same time.

“No! I’m not, I swear!”

“Then how did you know I'm a demon?” Crowley asked with a surprisingly calm tone.

The man held up his hands.

“Okay, yes! I can hear some stuff! Just odds and ends though! I swear, I won’t tell anyone!”

“Easy,” I said, kneeling down beside the man. “If you’re psychic, you know about the curse on me and my brother.”

“No, that’s not how it works. I just got some tidbits. Fragments. I heard that this guy,” he pointed up at Crowley, “was a demon and that he’s in love with your brother!”

Crowley stepped closer suddenly, growling under his breath.

“If you ever say that again, I’ll bloody kill you.”

The psychic pirate whimpered in response. I held a hand up to keep Crowley at bay.

“Look, we just need a psychic for the spell to break this curse. If you help us, I’ll make sure Crowley here doesn’t steal your soul for all eternity.”

“My soul?” The man gasped.

“Dean?”

I glanced back the way we had come from and spotted Sammy charging down the alleyway towards us. I felt a surge of concern in my chest.

He came to a stop behind me, casting a very cold glance in Crowley’s direction. It looked cold, but I could feel a painful sting of regret too. I cringed. Maybe Crowley had already told Sam he was in love with him and Sammy had turned him down.

“Who’s this?” Sam asked. Crowley and him both looked away from each other. Sam was focused in on me while the King of Hell seemed to take an interest in the graffiti on the alley wall.

“My name’s Eric,” the pirate offered. “Please don’t let your brother or his demon buddy kill me! For the love of God, I’m Christian. Please. I need my soul. Please!” He begged, rolling over to lay on his stomach in front of us.

“Nobody’s taking your soul,” Sam said firmly, offering the man a hand up. Eric hesitated, glancing at me, and then took it. Sam helped him to his feet and sighed. “We just need help breaking a curse.

I got up too and dusted my knees. Sam was being very careful about what he thought. I could barely get a reading off of him. Hell, maybe we didn’t need to break the curse. Sam seemed like he might have gotten the hang of it.

Crowley was trying to stay out of Sam’s sight. He had moved a few feet back down the alley and shoved his hands into his pockets. As pissed as he was earlier, he seemed more sad now. I really felt bad for my old drinking buddy. Sucks for him.

I blinked. Shit! Did Sam hear any of that? I glanced his way.

“You said you’re Christian,” Sammy was saying, keeping hold of Eric’s hand. “Would you like to meet an angel?”

“An angel? They’re real?” At least the psychic had calmed down. He wasn’t flopping around on the ground begging for his life.

“Yeah. Most angels are dicks — but Castiel is nice.”

“Oh,” Eric mumbled. He looked at me. “If I help you guys, you’ll let me meet an angel? You won’t take my soul?” He added the last at the same time that he looked Crowley’s way. To my surprise, Sam followed his gaze toward the demon.

Crowley lifted his head and looked at them, choosing to remain silent.

I could feel Sam trying to block me from sensing what was going through his head. It felt like a very even, empty feeling. Like I had just walked into a completely white room.

“No souls involved,” Sam said solemnly. He and Crowley stared at each other for a long moment before my little brother turned his attention back to the psychic pirate guy. “We should hurry.”

\- - -

The hotel offered a nice quiet after the craziness of the convention. Eric had been very cooperative and was now perched on the end of my bed while we waited for Cas to arrive.

The angel wasn’t needed to break the curse, but I figured it’d be a good idea to have someone around who knew the spell he was going to be using. Both Castiel and Crowley had offered to perform it for us, though they both admitted that it wouldn’t work if they did. I wasn’t sure why it had to be another psychic to cast the spell, but as Dean put it, ‘them’s the rules.’

Crowley had been quiet. I had expected him to charge off and tell Dean about the two of us just to hurt me, but he hadn’t. He'd just teleported us back to the motel and otherwise kept his mouth shut.

I could tell that Dean could tell something was going on, though. He kept trying to reach out to me psychically.

As we sat around on the nasty couch and the saggy beds, I heard him again.

Come on Sammy. What’s going on?

I pretended like I hadn’t heard him, poking at my phone to see if Cas had texted.

Sam!

WHAT? I mentally shouted back at him. He flinched. I guess I had thought that too loudly.

He frowned at me.

Did Cas text?

No, I thought, tucking my phone away. I stared at him and sighed. Why are we talking like this?

‘Cause Crowley, Dean thought, nodding his head in the King of Hell’s direction. There was a pause. Did he, uh, tell you he likes you?

I felt my pulse jump. Dean knew? No, Dean knew Crowley liked ME not the other way around. I was confident that I had learned how to keep him out of my head. I swallowed and nodded a tiny bit.

Dean nodded too, keeping the frown on his face.

What was I supposed to say? Apparently Crowley HAD told Dean that he liked me. Why didn’t he mention us dating? I felt my heart sinking at the thought that maybe — just maybe — Crowley was going to use that fact later. Probably to turn Dean against me in some critical moment.

I shivered. I knew what Crowley was and still the idea of him doing something like that hurt.

There was a loud knock on the motel door.

Both Dean and I jumped to our feet. He rushed over to open the door, revealing Cas. The angel looked as wind-blown and scruffy as ever. I froze a few steps behind Dean, alarmed at the tsunami of emotions breaking over my head.

Love. Not fluffy ‘hey it’s my buddy’ love, but deep in-my-being love. It was coming from my brother.

I stared at his back as he welcomed Cas inside, slapping his shoulder and asking where he had been for so long.

Cas replied, though I couldn’t concentrate enough to hear it. That feeling. The first night Dean and I tried to sleep after we could receive each other’s feelings…

He had said that he was worried about Cas and I had felt this sharp sadness. I could feel it again, combined with that heart-throbbing love.

I sank down to sit at the kitchen table.

“This is the guy,” Dean told Castiel, introducing him to Eric. “Just do something angel-y.”

“You’re an angel?” Eric asked, mouth agape.

Cas nodded and seated himself beside the psychic.

“Yes. I am an angel. You are a psychic?”

“Yes! I’m going to break a curse for these guys.” Eric pointed to Dean and I.

I stared at Dean, reaching out with my mind.

I know how you feel about Cas.

I hadn’t meant it to be ominous, but Dean looked up at me with such alarm that I might as well have just threatened to tell Castiel. The blip of fear and worry I got from him dimmed the tsunami of love from before.

Dean hurried over to join me at the small kitchen table. He dropped into the other rickety chair and stared me down.

Don’t tell him, he was chanting in his mind. I heard a few echoes of it before I thought a reply back to him.

I’m not going to…but you should.

NO, Dean thought very loudly. I grimaced and shook my head.

Jeez, okay. I’m sure Cas would love you back, though.

Yeah, what about you and Crowley? My brother joked.

I dropped my gaze to the table, putting up every mental barrier that I could. I could feel him trying to worm his way through.

I would tell him that I didn’t return Crowley’s feelings. I would. I sat up to tell him as much and was struck by the expression of realization on his face.

He knew.

I looked away again — anywhere. Anywhere but at Dean.

What the hell? My brother’s voice snapped in my ears. A blast of anger surged to me. Crowley? You like Crowley?

I took a breath, imagining myself sinking under cold water. It was icy and numbed everything that I was feeling. No emotions. The visualization wasn’t a healthy one and I knew it. I just couldn’t take Dean’s anger at that moment. It burned like a hot coal in my chest.

We’re not together — I haven’t told him, I reassured him as calmly as I could.

Our psychic conversation was thankfully interrupted by Cas.

“We’re ready to perform the spell now.” He looked between the two of us, already scooting one of the beds against the wall.

I got to my feet. Breaking the curse didn’t feel as important now. Dean knew.

\- - -

It had been almost a month since the curse was removed.

The thought occurred to me while I was standing around in the kitchen, waiting for my eggs to fry.

Life was almost back to normal. As long as I kept my head down and didn’t think about Crowley, I could make it through. I just hadn’t expected to miss him so much. The little smirks, the secret kisses. Even those stupid flowers.

I flipped the eggs over in the pan and sighed.

It’ll be okay, I told myself with zero belief in the words. Breaking up had been the right thing to do.

Dean had been surprisingly nice about it. He hadn’t brought Crowley up once since the curse was off. Either he knew how badly it hurt me or, more likely, he was doing his old ‘it never happened if we don’t talk about it’ routine.

That was fine by me. Though I wasn’t going to let him forget about Cas.

The way he felt about the angel made me wonder if Dean hadn’t been serious about anyone in a long time for that reason — he was already in love with someone. That someone being Castiel.

So I had been forming a plan.

Castiel had called during the convention asking for help with using a waffle iron. I’d invite him over under the guise of teaching him how to make waffles, then dump it on Dean as soon as I put the idea of dating my brother into our angel buddy’s head.

All I need to do now was to text Cas.

\- - -

“Why are we meeting in an alley?” I asked indignantly. I hadn’t heard a word from the King of Hell in about a month – which was on purpose. He had texted and even called me a bunch of times before I finally gave in and met up with him. Why he chose an alley instead of a bar was beyond me, especially since it looked like it was going to rain any minute.

Crowley just shrugged, his expression unchanged. He had seen better days. The heavy eye bags and overgrown beard were pretty good indicators.

“How’s Moose?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. Crowley didn’t know that Sam liked him and I was gonna keep it that way. No matter how the demon felt, it wasn’t important. If I had my way, they’d never see each other again.

Sam had a history of being stupid when it came to demons. Ruby, Lilith and now Crowley.

The way the demon was looking at me made it clear that he still felt strongly about Sam. His expression was so carefully calm. Calculated. Like he knew if he asked too openly, I would shut him down.

“Fine. What do you want?” I said shortly, glancing around the alley.

“I just wanted to ask you a favor,” Crowley began, stepping closer to me. He dropped his gaze to the ground, glancing up at me from under his brows. “Tell Sam I love him?”

I looked him straight in the eye and shook my head.

“No, and stay the hell away from my brother.”

The demon huffed in annoyance.

“I would never hurt Moose, Dean.”

“Yeah, sure—” I began, but Crowley cut me off sharply.

“I swear, on my life, I will never harm your brother.”

I paused. The way he said it was so earnest, I was tempted to believe him. He was looking right at me, no smirks or scowls. After I stood there eyeing him suspiciously for a long time, he continued.

“I know he doesn’t love me, I’m not a moron. But I love him.” He put a hand over his heart, as if making a vow. “If ever it comes down to it and you aren’t around anymore, I’ll protect Sam for you. You have my word.”

I swallowed as I stared back at him. I had been so determined to keep them apart before. Why was I feeling so touched by his stupid speech? I liked to think that I knew Crowley well, especially after my time as a demon. He was good to his word.

I chose not to speak and just nodded in reply.

Crowley looked relieved for some reason as he nodded, too.

“Don’t worry. I’ll stay away from him,” the demon added coldly, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

\- - -

“Then you put the eggs in,” I told Castiel, offering him an egg. He took it and timidly bumped it against the edge of the bowl. After a few more attempts, he cracked it — spilling a good part of the egg on the counter before he dumped the rest into the bowl.

He looked up at me, blue eyes tired.

“This is very complicated, Sam.”

“No, no. It’s not. It’ll get easier after the first time.”

“Like sex,” Cas said bluntly, stirring the waffle batter.

Unsure if I should comment on that or not, I flipped the waffle maker on.

“I smell food.” My brother came into the kitchen and looked around. His coat was speckled with rain drops.

“You’re back? That was a fast beer run.”

Dean stuck the two packs of beer into the fridge and went over to Castiel’s side to peek into the bowl.

“Waffles?” He asked the angel. Cas nodded, looking up at him.

I had insisted on sticking him in an apron in the vague hope that anything involved with food would be sexual for Dean. It didn’t work. He didn’t even look twice, shrugging out of his coat.

“Want some help?”

I paused, spray oil in hand. I was already helping Cas, but the whole plan was to hand him off to Dean. I hadn’t gotten to the subject of dating Dean yet, though.

“Here,” I said, untying my apron and offering it to Dean. He took it happily, patting my shoulder.

“Thanks Sammy. Ah,” he shook his head as he put the apron on. “I forgot the pie in the car. Could you go grab it?”

“Pie and waffles?” I asked dubiously. Dean shrugged a shoulder.

“Baby’s out front.”

I gave him a thumbs up.

\- - -

Why Dean had left the Impala out front was beyond me. I had grabbed Baby’s keys on my way up. Seriously, we had a garage. Laziness was most likely to blame. I didn’t need to be psychic to know that.

I pulled the keys from my pocket and promptly dropped them as I saw who was standing by the car.

“Crowley?”

The demon turned when I said his name, expression softening away from a scowl.

“Sam,” he murmured. He took a step closer, slipping his hands out of his pockets and holding them up in surrender. “Please. I’m just here to talk.”

I could barely hear him. The lines on his face, the sadness in his eyes — it hurt. I had caused that. I had made him, the King of Hell, sad.

I was shaking as I walked to him, catching him in a tight hug. He almost tipped over, swaying in my arms. He grabbed my shirt to keep his balance.

“Sam, I need to tell you something—”

“I do too!” I managed as my vision started to blur with tears. Crowley froze, staring up at me with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry, Sammy,” he said softly, slipping a hand up between us to brush his thumb over my chin.

I smiled down at him.

“I love you,” I whispered, leaning in to kiss him. He pushed me back easily, shaking his head.

“Wait, wait!”

My heart sank as he gathered his thoughts. He took a deep breath and looked back up at me again.

“Sam, this is foolish. In what world would that ever work? The King of Hell and a bloody Winchester? We shouldn’t be together…”

I nodded, trying to pull back out of his arms, but he clung to me, keeping a death grip on the front of my shirt.

“But I love you too. I love you s-so much, Moose.” The waver in his voice broke my heart all over again. Pulling him back in, I wrapped the demon in my arms. He hugged me back and I heard him sniffling a bit.

I sat back and looked down at him again, smiling. He tried to quickly dry the corners of his eyes, turning his face away from me. I tipped his chin up and kissed him again, feeling Crowley sigh as he melted into my arms.

I guess this WAS the world where the King of Hell and a Winchester could be together.

\- - -

Judging by all the smooching and tears, my plan had worked. Cas and I hung back to spy from the door that led to the bunker. We had charged after Sam so fast that we were still in our aprons.

I was leaned just inside the door, Cas behind my shoulder. As Sam and Crowley kissed, I decided this was a good time to NOT be there anymore. Stepping around Cas, I waved for him to follow me.

“I don’t understand. Why would you want them to be together?” Cas asked as he fell into step beside me.

“I don’t know, man, I just…I dunno. Sam loves him—”

“How do you know that?” Castiel interrupted, squinting at me.

“—And Crowley loves him.”

“Impossible,” Cas huffed, starting down the steps to the map room. I followed him, shrugging even though he couldn’t see it.

“And I love you,” I added in a mumble.

Cas tripped on the steps, catching himself on the railing as he turned to look up at me. We stared at one another.

Right. Angel hearing. Shit! Stupid stupid stupid! I gulped and tried to act casual, continuing down the stairs past him.

“S-so I set them up.”

Castiel followed me, walking so close he was practically on my heels. I turned around once we were back in the kitchen, and Cas was right there, staring at me with those baby blues.

“…You love me?” He asked at long last. He sounded hopeful.

I blushed and looked away, clearing my throat.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

There didn’t seem to be a reaction. I glanced back at him and he was still staring at me. He smiled sadly, eyes sparkling with tears.

“I love you too, Dean.”

Carefully, I stepped closer, crushed by a wave of guilt for making him cry. He’d told me that he loved me before — but never like that. I cupped his face, wiping the tears on his cheeks away with my thumbs.

He grabbed my wrists lightly and took a shaky breath. I wasn’t sure what to do, but he did. Cas leaned up and kissed me.


End file.
